


Running

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, May/December Relationship, Meet-Cute, Mystery, Older Man/Younger Woman, One Shot, Sansa is an art history major, Stannis in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: Stannis has a routine that never changes. He always runs in the same park, for example. One day a girl with red hair changes things.





	Running

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I found when I was looking for something else on my google drive. I gave it an ending and decided to post it for you guys. Hope you like it!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** GRRM owns the things. I do not own the things.

Stannis hardly noticed her the first time it happened. She was just another jogger in the park, taking the same route by happenstance. Her hair shone copper in the dawn light when it filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, dark green shadows playing across her skin. She was pretty, but she was no one he cared about. Just an interesting bit of scenery.

He ran past without a second thought.

When he realised that she had been there, running his route for three mornings in a row, her ponytail swinging cheerfully, he tried to catch a proper glimpse of her face. Who was this young woman? Did he know her?

She smiled when his eyes lingered on her, sending a spark of recognition shooting through his brain. He was almost certain he had seen her somewhere before. Somewhere not in the park.

On the fourth morning he didn’t see her. He was in a black mood for the rest of the day for reasons he could not explain. Not even to himself.

The relief of seeing her again on the fifth day was immense and frustrating. Why did he care so much?

“You’re back,” he said, slowing his pace to jog beside her. He didn’t know why it felt so important to talk to her. He usually hated it when someone interrupted him while he was running.

“I had an exam yesterday morning,” the girl said, seemingly content to have a conversation with a stranger. She did not appear to be intimated by him, even though they were alone in a secluded part of the park. Was she stupid? He could be a rapist or a serial killer.

“Who are you?” he blurted out, feeling more certain than ever that he had met her before.

“Don’t you remember me, Stannis Baratheon?” She smiled, even though her breathing was laboured. He had a feeling that she was running at a pace she couldn’t quite handle.

_How does she know my name?_

“No,” he said, feeling irritated. Why couldn’t he remember?

“I’m insulted.” Her eyes were dancing with mirth, completely invalidating her words.

“I know I’ve seen you somewhere.” He furrowed his brow and searched his memory one more time.

Nothing.

“I don’t think I’ll tell you,” she said. “Maybe you should sleep on it?”

His blood simmered and he clenched his jaw. Why wouldn’t the stupid girl just tell him? He despised these sorts of games. Feeling miffed, he sped up and left the girl in the dust.

He ignored her the next few times he saw her, determined not to play her silly games. Maybe she had worked at Baratheon Enterprises at some point? Or for one of his brothers? She couldn’t honestly expect him to remember every person that he came into contact with through work.

“Do you want me to give you a hint?” she asked one morning, catching up to him where he usually did his stretches. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement, and several tendrils of hair had escaped her ponytail. They were plastered to her neck, and for some reason Stannis had a brief fantasy of unsticking them with his fingers.

“No,” he said, tearing his eyes away from her neck and feeling his face heat up. Hopefully the flush from his run would hide his embarrassment.

“I’ll give you one anyway. I was ten years old when we met.” She drank from her bottle of water after telling him this, tipping her head back and exposing her throat. “I’ll be here tomorrow if you need another hint.” She jogged off, heading for the nearest gate.

Stannis looked at her arse for a second before focusing on his own bottle of water. He really did not need this sort of distraction in his life.

He managed not to think about the mystery jogger until he was in bed that night. His brain was resisting sleep, obsessively combing through his memories involving children and trying to recall the redheaded girl.

Eventually, when he had nearly drifted off despite himself, the memory floated to the surface.

He sat bolt-upright in his bed and opened his eyes wide. The girl… she was a Stark. One of Ned’s daughters. He was sure of it, but he didn’t understand what she was doing in the city. Shouldn’t she be in Winterfell?

She had said something about an exam, though. Perhaps she was in King’s Landing for school?

It took Stannis a while to get to sleep. He hated it when the answer to one question simply created more questions. It was why he had decided not to pursue a career in science even though he’d had the aptitude. He ground his teeth enough as it was.

“Sansa Stark,” he said when he found her jogging past the redwoods the next morning. He slowed down to match her pace.

“You finally remembered!” She looked thrilled.

He tried not to show that he was pleased with himself. It felt good to be right.

“Why are you in King’s Landing?” He realised too late that he sounded like a detective interrogating a murder suspect.

“University,” Sansa answered, “I’m studying art history.”

Stannis snorted. That was a completely useless subject. She was lucky she had rich parents.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Sansa shot him a glare. “I know it’s not a STEM major, but art history is an important subject.”

“I’m sure,” he said, staring straight ahead at the path in front of them.

“You sound super convinced,” Sansa said, her tone sarcastic.

He didn’t respond. Instead he considered speeding up. Now that he had confirmed her identity he could put this strange little obsession with her aside and focus on my important things. Like running his route in less than twenty minutes. That would not happen if he was always slowing down to chat.

“Could you - could you not speed up quite yet?” Sansa asked, obviously sensing the way he had been about to sprint off.

“Why?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something. It’s why I started running here, actually. I don’t even like running that much.”

Stannis frowned. Why on earth would she have gone to such lengths just to speak to him?

“Gods, you probably think I’m crazy. But anyway, here goes…” She panted a few times, obviously struggling to run and hold a conversation. “Would you be willing to give me access to Dragonstone? I want to write my thesis about the stone dragons in the old manor. The idea is to explore their meaning, their history and their origins, and I just know I’d be able to do a much better job if I could actually _see_ them. Not just pictures.”

Stannis stopped running. Sansa gave him a grateful look and bent over, placing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. He did his best not to stare at the cleavage her tight sports top created.

“You want an all access pass to my _home?_ ” He accidentally sounded a lot more offended than he felt. He mostly felt surprised. Those stone monstrosities had never seemed very interesting to him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” She sounded embarrassed and disappointed. For some reason that made him feel a twinge of regret.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, his words clipped, “it would be no particular bother. You’d just have to make sure not to damage them.” Not that he would care all that much if she did. It was just the principle of the thing.

“Really?” she squealed, straightening her back and looking at him with wide, happy eyes.

He nodded.

“Thank you!” Her voice was still very high-pitched and… girly. He would usually be annoyed by such things, but for some reason her reaction was making him want to smile. He resisted the silly impulse.

“I kind of want to hug you right now, but I’m all sweaty and gross,” she said with a laugh.

“I don’t like hugs,” he said at once, even though the idea of her arms around his neck wasn’t entirely abhorrent.

_Don’t be a pervert. She’s a University student. Much too young._

“That’s a shame,” Sansa said, smiling at him. “You look like you could use a few hugs.”

He glared at her. What was that supposed to mean?

“I don’t have time for this. Call my office to arrange the details.” He ran off at a pace he knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up with, feeling annoyed, embarrassed, and absurdly disappointed to have lost out on a hug.

***

Sansa was always at his house. She was always at his house, and she was always wearing pretty little dresses and letting her hair flow down her back in loose waves. He had noticed that she was pretty when he had been running past her every morning, encased in tight fitness wear and her hair in that bouncy ponytail, but now it was clear to him that she was nothing short of stunning.

Stunning and intelligent. Friendly and charming. Polite and sweet.

Perfect.

Just… perfect.

“Did you know that this dragon can be traced back to the year… “

Stannis tried to listen when she talked about art history. He really did. But the subject bored him to tears and it was just so _easy_ to get distracted by the way she twirled a lock of hair around a finger as she spoke, or the way her cupid’s bow was perfectly shaped, or how her cheekbones were the only sharp things about her. Everything else was soft and curved and feminine.

To be fair, she got a glazed look in her eyes whenever he humoured her and told her about his day at work.

“... and it just makes me feel like the person who made him was so full of longing, you know?”

Longing. Stannis was pretty full of longing. He nodded, feeling a bit dazed.

“How come you’re not married?” Sansa suddenly asked, snapping him right back to reality.

“None of your business,” he said curtly.

Sansa blushed and looked down. “I know, I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

It was ridiculous, but now he actually felt bad for making her feel like she had been rude.

“I’ve never been very popular with women,” he bit out, hoping that she would stop looking like a kicked puppy if he answered her question.

“I find that so strange,” Sansa said, looking up at him, a blush still staining her cheeks.

Heat crept to his cheeks and he felt his heart start to beat a little faster. “Most people don’t.” No one had ever asked him why he wasn’t married.

Sansa was staring at him, her brow furrowed. “Is it… I mean… are you popular with - um - men?” She was blushing harder than ever.

Did she think he was like Renly? The idea made his face feel like it had caught fire. For some reason it was very important to him for Sansa to know that he wasn’t gay.

“No,” he said, his voice a lot louder than it needed to be. He grimaced at the way the word echoed around the stone corridor. “I mean, I’m not popular with anyone,” he added, adjusting the volume of his voice. 

“You’re pretty popular with me,” she contradicted him, biting her lip and looking up at him with a hopeful expression.

He blinked at her. Was she trying to tell him that she liked him?

“One cannot be popular with just one person,” he said stiffly. “Being popular means being liked or admired by many people.”

“Is that so?” She looked amused.

“That is how the word is most commonly used,” Stannis said, clearing his throat and looking around the empty corridor they were standing in. The stone dragon Sansa had been examining was the only interesting thing around them. The door to his study was nearby, however, and he thought it would probably be best if he headed for it.

“I have to go,” he said, unable to think of a good excuse.

Sansa’s face fell. “Oh… all right.”

He hesitated and opened his mouth, but when he realised that nothing good would come of prolonging his conversation with her, he shut it again, turned on his heel, and hurried to his study.

He blew out a breath when he made it to the other side of the door.

_Please let her finish her research soon._

***

Stannis’ life was a dark abyss devoid of meaning.

Sansa had stopped coming to Dragonstone. She never ran in the park anymore. She had thanked him for allowing her access to his home, and disappeared.

And now everything was somehow worse than it had been before he had met her.

Stannis wasn’t stupid. He knew that nothing had really changed. He went to work. He got his run in. He spent the occasional free evening with Davos and Marya. He avoided Robert and Renly. But it all felt so… _empty._

He couldn’t go on like this. If the price he paid for putting things right was feeling like a creepy stalker, then so be it.

The graduation ceremony was long, and there was no one in the crowd he recognised. Joffrey and Myrcella had gone to Casterly Rock University, and Devan wasn’t graduating until next year. The only people he knew here, were Sansa and her parents. He made sure to stay out of Ned and Catelyn’s line of sight.

Sansa looked beautiful as she walked across the stage that had been set up on the campus lawn, the sun in her hair, and her smile blinding.

He closed his eyes, swallowed, and tried to convince himself to breathe evenly.

Once the ceremony was over, Stannis loitered by a statue, watching Sansa exchange hugs with her parents. He wanted to speak to her, but he was growing increasingly aware of how stupid he had been to do this. She probably didn’t want him here. He should go.

“Stannis?”

He froze. He had only taken two steps towards the car park, and it seemed that he had been discovered. For a moment he wondered if he should pretend not to have heard and keep going.

“Stannis? Is that you?”

 _Shit._ With a grimace, he slowly turned around.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Sansa said, giving him the full force of her dazzling smile. “Come say hello to my parents.”

He followed her obediently. His throat had closed up, and his vocabulary was entirely missing.

He shook hands and nodded at Ned and Catelyn.

“You remember Stannis don’t you? He let me poke around his house for my thesis,” Sansa explained happily. “If it weren’t for him I doubt the grade I got for my thesis would have been half as high!”

He swallowed and looked down at the ground, trying to hide his mortifying reaction to her words. He hadn’t _blushed_ since he was a teenager.

“Well, thank you,” Catelyn said. “How kind.” She sounded cultured and flawlessly polite. Ned echoed her sentiment distractedly.

“Why don’t you head for the car?” Sansa suggested, addressing her parents. “I just want a quick word with Stannis and then I’ll join you.”

Ned and Catelyn walked off after a few more polite words. Stannis managed to find his voice to return the useless greetings after clearing his throat a few times.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch,” Sansa said as soon as her parents were out of earshot. “I’ve been so busy with exams, and writing, and then it’s just been a whirlwind getting the thesis printed and preparing for graduation… I meant to give you a copy.”

He cleared his throat again and jerked his head vaguely, hoping to convey that he understood.

“I don’t have one with me, but maybe I could come by the house in a few days?” Sansa went on, biting her lip and giving him a hopeful look.

“Yes,” he managed, unable to tear his eyes from her lips. They were painted a light pink colour.

The hopeful look turned into a mischievous smile and she wrapped a lock of hair around a slender finger. “Have you missed me?” she asked.

His lungs stopped working, and - possibly due to lack of oxygen - a fuse in his brain shorted with a spectacular shower of sparks. The next thing he knew he had taken a step forward, buried one of his hands in her long, curled hair, and placed the other low on her waist, pulling her to his chest.

He kissed her.

Almost as soon as their lips met he realised that he had probably just overstepped rather enormously, but before he had a chance to pull back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer, her lips parting beneath his.

Feeling the full length of her body pressed against his caused his brain to overheat completely, and he helpless to do anything except let his tongue do what it wanted. (It wanted to explore her mouth. Thoroughly.)

Sansa moaned, and he felt her fingernails scratching gently at the back of his head, sending shivers down his spine. He tightened his hold on her waist, revelling in the body heat that was seeping through her dress and her graduation robe.

He never wanted it to stop, but eventually he realised that if he kept kissing her like this, he would end up with an embarrassing erection, so he took a step back, gently returning Sansa’s arms to her.

Sansa’s eyes fluttered open, and for a long moment she just looked dazed and flushed. Her lips had swollen up a little, and her lipstick was smudged. She blinked a few times, and then suddenly the mischievous look was back. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, shooting him a little grin.

He cleared his throat and tried to will his blood to cool. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, nodding once and then turning to walk away, feeling considerably lighter on his feet than he ever had in his life.


End file.
